Book vs real life: 27 weeks pregnant

November 30, 2016

At 27 weeks pregnant I’m nudging closer to the third trimester eg squeaky bum time, where I need to start getting my act together.

While I’m generally a fairly upbeat person, it would be remiss (and dishonest) of me to say that this week has been easy. Some of it has been shit. I wrenched my back lifting Phoebe in an awkward way, and ended up at the doctor’s and the physio having a pretty unpleasant ‘massage’. Thankfully, it has helped, but I’m trying to be strict with myself when it comes to lifting and carrying our 14kg bundle of joy, which is hard when I’m hearing ‘UP!’ about 85 times a day…

I’ll never take painkillers for granted again.

However, I’ve had some lovely moments too, and was really (really) honoured to be included in OK! Middle East’s top 30 all-stars, which included a fun photoshoot, and there’s a party in a few weeks when the issue comes out. Watch out, Dubai, I’m going out out.

Let’s see what Baby Centre says about my growing waistline and increasing anxiety, and what this mince-pie addict really thinks…

The book says…

Now that you’re approaching your third trimester, your baby is starting to fill the available space in your uterus.

I say…

Big time. White chocolate buttons continue to send the baby loopy, and she must be running out of space in there. There have been a few days when I’ve been on the go from 7am to bedtime, then got to evening and realised I haven’t felt much movement for hours. Always scary. While I don’t much go for counting kicks, no matter how busy you are, do try to take some time to pause and let the baby have a wriggle. I now keep ice lollies in the freezer to get a reaction (any excuse).

The book says…

Your baby can now open and close his eyes, sleeps and wakes at regular intervals, and may suck a finger or thumb.

I say…

Confession time. At the age of 34, I still suck my thumb when I’m tired (I know, it’s pretty sexy) so it’s sweet to think of the baby soothing herself in there.

The book says…

Your body is altering rapidly now. Your uterus is up near your rib cage and you may discover the delights of leg cramps, haemorrhoids or varicose veins. All these pregnancy complaints should disappear after you’ve had your baby.

I say…

“Should disappear” – and be replaced by a whole world of other problems. I still don’t fully know what haemorrhoids are, and have zero plans to Google Image search them, thankyouverymuch. Yes to leg cramps though, and as a passionate hater of bananas it might be a potassium thing. No to varicose veins, but there’s still time…

The book says…

Labour really isn’t far away so if you haven’t already signed up for an antenatal class, then find out if there is a space available on a course now.

I say…

I’m not planning on doing antenatal classes again, but really should do some reading. It would be lovely if I could have exactly the same birth as the last time, but this is highly unlikely, so other eventualities should be (reluctantly) prepared for. I was induced last time, and it was fine, and the thought of waters breaking and going into painful labour scares me silly. Maybe science and medicine will advance significantly in the next 12 weeks, and I won’t actually have to go through with giving birth. Fingers crossed.

The book says…

Believe it or not, a mum’s breastfeeding success has a lot to do with her partner’s attitude. If you’re a dad-to-be, it’s time to learn the basics of breastfeeding so you can provide support after your baby’s born.

I say…

Well, that and your body’s ability to breastfeed, your baby’s willingness to latch on, and getting expert help if you’re having problems. I’m hoping to breastfeed, but certainly won’t agonise over it if there are problems like last time. Crying in the car outside the clinic after being told my daughter had lost weight is not on my to-do list.

On the boob front, and sorry for the overshare, but something is going on there. Frankly, I look permanently… cold. So if you see me, I’m probably very pleased to see you, but apologies for communicating it through the medium of nipples.

In conclusion…

Where is time going? I have done approximately 16% of my Christmas shopping, need to plan Phoebe’s 2nd birthday for the end of January, don’t know what to do about the Double Buggy Dilemma (and they are SO EXPENSIVE) and still haven’t got a name sorted out. Would it be wrong to call her Thing 2?

ABOUT ME

I’m Helen Farmer, an editor and journalist, mum to 3-year-old Phoebe and one-year-old Tabitha, wife to Nick and a mummy blogger in Dubai (even though I don’t really identify as one, but I blog, and I’m a mum, so there you go). I’ve been living in the Middle East for the last 10 years, working in books, magazines and broadcasting, shedding some light on the good and bad of life, work and motherhood in the UAE.

ABOUT THE BLOG

The Mothership is for you if you’re a busy, active mum who can’t stand small talk, bad info and twee blogs that make out that mothering is all unicorns and rose petals, instead of admitting that you can love your child so much it terrifies you – while still wanting a night in alone watching The Great British Bake Off with a double G&T or a night out pretending you don’t have children.